


What doesn't kill you

by pierrot



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Actors, Alternate Universe, Bodyguard, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28526331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pierrot/pseuds/pierrot
Summary: Being assigned to protect an actor was hardly the kind of job Renjun wanted.As it turned out, Lee Haechan was more than just an actor. He was also a giant pain in the ass.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 107





	What doesn't kill you

“You’re kinda scrawny for a bodyguard, aren’t you?” Haechan said to him the first time they met.

Renjun had him pinned to the floor in ten seconds flat.

“I don’t think this is how this is supposed to go,” said Haechan, after he caught his breath. “Aren’t you supposed to be protecting me?”

“I find it best to get any doubts regarding my abilities out of the way early,” Renjun replied.

He pressed down a little harder, making certain that Haechan didn’t get any funny ideas. You could never be too sure with actors. They performed a couple of their own stunts in a movie and started thinking they were action heroes.

“Alright, alright, I get it. You’re a real tough guy. Can I get up now? This outfit is a loan.”

Behind them, Jeno laughed loudly, enjoying the show.

Renjun didn’t like that Jeno was there with them. His first meeting with Haechan should have been with him alone, or maybe a manager—not with some friend of his tagging along. However Haechan had insisted, so Jeno was there.

There was not much Renjun liked about this assignment at all, frankly. He preferred to be responsible for foreign diplomats or political leaders, not bratty actors who were likely to treat him as just another person to boss around.

Unfortunately for him, Haechan had been receiving a slew of anonymous threats that were deemed quite worrying, so his security needed an upgrade. And technically Renjun was supposed to be on probation anyhow, after he got a little too aggressive during his last assignment.

He had been justified at the time, but it mattered little. He was lucky to be receiving any assignment at all. Renjun had been reminded that quite pointedly by his superior before being sent over to Haechan’s apartment.

When he was standing straight again, taking a moment to straighten the cuffs of his jacket, Jeno bounced over to him. “That was great,” he said with a bright smile. “Can you show me how to do it?”

“It’s not a party trick.”

Jeno pouted. Renjun could see how he had managed to capture the affections of older women nationwide, enough so to be dubbed the “Nation’s True Love”. His heart, normally stony, felt weakened by the sight.

“Yeah, let’s move on,” said Haechan, reminding Renjun of why he was there. “I don’t need to get my ass beaten again today. Come on, let me show you around, and you can tell me all the things I’m not allowed to do anymore.”

\--

Two weeks into his new assignment, Renjun was ready to quit.

Haechan was not just difficult, he was actively annoying. Putting aside the way he tried to escape Renjun’s sight, as though that was a fun game, and the way he talked to Renjun as a friend and not an employee, he also apparently took great delight in making Renjun angry.

Haechan liked to pull pranks. In the first week alone he put salt in Renjun’s coffee, reported him as a lost child to a shopping centre help desk (providing his name as “Renjeon” for good measure), and swapped out Renjun’s shoes for an identical pair a size too small when Renjun wasn’t looking.

Renjun should have never taken off his shoes in the first place. But Haechan insisted he join him watching a movie, and then he insisted that wearing shoes inside was impolite, and dirty, and his carpet was expensive.

Renjun should have realised Haechan’s pushiness was all for a trick.

None of the pranks were harmful or mean-spirited. They were simply designed to irritate, and every time Renjun showed he was affected, Haechan was overjoyed.

After the third time Renjun was subjected to a sip of undrinkable coffee, he’d had enough. He pushed Haechan up against a wall, pinning him into place with one arm braced across his chest. “Cut it out already,” he said, almost snarling with frustration. “This is serious, you realise? I’m here to protect you.”

Even with Renjun pressed against him, Haechan wasn’t fazed. He smiled at Renjun, eyes twinkling, and said, “You can always get me back, you know.”

That was hardly the point. “This isn’t a game,” said Renjun.

Haechan tilted his head to the side. This close, Renjun could see all of the small, imperfect marks on Haechan’s face, every mole and acne scar that makeup often covered.

“I know it’s not,” agreed Haechan. “But isn’t life more enjoyable when we all have a bit of fun?”

\--

To be completely honest, minding Haechan was far from the most taxing job Renjun had ever been given. Haechan’s agency had reduced his schedules, leaving him with plenty of free time. Most days he woke up after midday, went out with his friends for dinner, and stayed up gaming until the early hours of the morning.

It was actually rather boring.

So while Renjun prided himself on being a professional, enough idleness gave him too much time to think. More specifically, it gave him time to plot. A few days after Haechan challenged him, Renjun had a plan.

He handed over his duties to a colleague for the night, claiming he had an important personal matter to attend to. Haechan made a lot of obnoxious insinuations about Renjun’s dating life, and then whined about not wanting to be left alone. Still, he promised to be good. He was just going to head over to Chenle’s place for dinner and return straight home; nothing too risky.

Sneaking into Haechan’s apartment undetected was easy. Really, he did not need to sneak in at all. He knew all of the security codes. But he gave himself the extra challenge of slipping past both the security guard and the concierge without being noticed, not wanting any chance of his surprise being ruined.

Waiting was the hardest part. Renjun was used to exercising patience for hours on end, but hiding in a closet when he wasn’t being paid to do so wasn’t high on his list of fun activities. It was cramped, dark, and stuffy, and he had no idea how long he needed to stay in there.

Hearing the whir of the front door unlocking was a relief. Renjun’s patience was hopefully soon to be rewarded. He counted off the seconds to keep himself calm.

Approximately 17 minutes after Haechan returned, Renjun finally heard him enter into the bedroom. There were some muffled noises—slippers shuffling across the carpet, the sound of a zipper being undone—and Renjun had a moment to worry that maybe he was about to see Haechan naked.

Haechan was still wearing his boxers when he opened the closet door. That was good.

What was less good was his lack of reaction to seeing Renjun there.

There was no scream. No gasp. Not even a flinch. Haechan simply stared at him, blank-faced and unmoving.

“I need my grey robe,” he said, as though finding a man dressed as a ghost in his closet was an entirely mundane event.

Shamefaced, Renjun shifted aside to let him grab it.

“So, are you going to stay in there, or do you want to come out?”

Renjun cleared his throat, and with as much dignity as he could muster, he stepped outside.

His pride didn’t last long.

“You were supposed to be afraid,” he complained.

Haechan shrugged. “I’m not easily startled.”

Standing face-to-face with Renjun, he reached up to touch the painted blood on his cheek. “Cool makeup though,” he said. “Did you do it yourself?”

“I had a friend help.”

Renjun couldn’t stop the petulance that carried through his voice.

Haechan smiled and patted him condescendingly. “Don’t beat yourself up about it,” he said, far too pleased for Renjun’s liking. “Not everyone has a talent for pulling off pranks. It takes a certain amount genius, might I say. Intelligence, cunning, charm—”

“Okay, okay, shut up already,” Renjun said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s just forget this ever happened.”

While following Renjun through the living room, Haechan said, “So you never had a date then? You just asked for the night off so you could do this?”

“Yes,” replied Renjun with a sigh. “Please don’t rub it in.”

Haechan stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “I wasn’t going to,” he said. “I was just going to ask: do you want to stay for a drink?”

\--

A full month passed before Renjun met Na Jaemin. He was the third member of the “Triple Zeroes”—the name fans bestowed on Jeno, Haechan and Jaemin because they were all born in the year 2000. All three had attended the same high school, gone on to become successful actors, and they were known to be good friends.

“You’re born in 2000 too, right?” Haechan asked Renjun as they made their way past event security. “Why don’t you go into acting instead of this bodyguard business? You can take Jaemin’s spot.”

“I don’t want to be part of your stupid club,” Renjun hissed, mindful of how many people were surrounding them. Crowds made him uncomfortable. There were too many unknowns, and Haechan himself was too unpredictable.

He wished Haechan had declined the invite. How important could a charity fashion show be anyhow?

Jaemin was in the middle of having his makeup done when they arrived in the waiting room, but he still got up the moment he saw them. Excitement was plastered all over his unfairly handsome features.

“You must be Haechanie’s new, special bodyguard,” said Jaemin, skipping any formalities. “I heard about you.”

With that, he dragged Renjun off with him back to his seat. Renjun was far from happy about this turn of events, but when he looked pleadingly at Haechan, he was simply waved off with a smile.

Five minutes later, he had a new worry.

“Haechan,” he said once he returned to his charge, keeping careful not to be overheard by anyone nearby. “Are you sure you can trust Jaemin?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think he likes you very much.”

Haechan raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Why do you say that?”

“He just spent a full five minutes complaining about you. Do you guys have bad blood or something? It felt to me like he’s been holding a grudge.”

Renjun wasn’t too impressed when Haechan only laughed.

“Take this seriously! We still don’t know who’s been sending those letters, but they sounded personal. We shouldn’t be ruling anyone out yet.”

“I _am_ taking this seriously. But you just don’t know Jaemin. He’s not someone you should be worried about, I promise. Here, let me show you.”

With that, Haechan strode off in Jaemin’s direction. He stopped a few metres away, grabbing a makeup sponge off one of the unattended tables.

“Jaemin, catch!” he said, waiting just long enough for Jaemin to look up before pegging the sponge directly at his head.

Jaemin failed to move even a fraction in response. The makeup sponge hit the side of his head and bounced onto the floor.

Renjun was dumbstruck.

“Haechan,” Jaemin drawled in a low, monotonous voice. He looked far from impressed. “What do you think you’re doing.”

Haechan, for his part, did not seem concerned. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said with a wave of his hand. “ _‘Don’t cross the line’_. Sorry, Jaemin.”

He walked off, and Renjun was quick to follow him.

“What the hell was that meant to prove?”

Haechan looked surprised. He shrugged. “Made sense to me.”

Renjun wondered if all actors were this ridiculous, or if Haechan was just special.

\--

“Hey, you know how we do this thing where I ask you to do something, and you tell me it’s not your job, and then you do it anyway?”

“No,” Renjun lied.

“Yeah you do. Anyway, I need you to read some lines with me.”

For all the time Renjun spent with Haechan, sometimes he forgot he was actually an actor who had work to do, and had not just been put on this earth with the sole purpose of making Renjun’s life difficult. Renjun accompanied Haechan to events and meetings and the odd commercial shoot, but Haechan rarely talked about work with him. “I’m taking a little break right now,” Haechan had told him, early on. “So don’t worry. You won’t have to wait around on set with me until 3am. We’ll be living free.”

With an absent mind, Renjun took the script that Haechan handed it over to him. “You accepted a new role?”

“I’m considering it. Which is why I need you to run through a scene with me.”

Renjun only needed to skim through the first couple of pages before making a decision. “Absolutely not,” he said, flipping back to the start. “No way am I doing this shit.”

“You don’t have to actually act; you just need to read the lines.”

Renjun scoffed. “It’s not the acting that’s the problem. It’s the garbage you’re asking me to say.” And then, because he couldn’t help himself: “I can act just fine, thank you very much.”

“Oh? Then prove it.”

As far as bait went, it was lazy. But Renjun had to admit he was a little bit curious what Haechan was like as an actor. He had yet to bother to watch anything Haechan had starred in, so he couldn’t imagine it.

A few minutes later, he got his answer.

Haechan was—and Renjun hated to admit this—kind of incredible. Despite his reluctance, Renjun found himself getting swept away by the melodrama of the scene, carried by Haechan’s quiet conviction. Hackneyed dialogue sounded fresh when it came from his lips.

“I’ve always loved you,” Haechan said softly, tears welling in his eyes, “and you never gave me a chance.”

Too late, Renjun realised he should have read further ahead.

Haechan already had one hand on his shoulder. The other he lifted slowly to cup Renjun’s jaw. A thumb stroked tenderly across his cheekbone. The fingers that were curled around him pressed deeper.

He wasn’t going to stop, Renjun realised.

Haechan leaned in, agonisingly slow, until little more than a breath separated them.

“You wanna kiss me so bad right now,” Haechan whispered.

Renjun’s shove sent him flying.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Haechan said through gasped breaths. He was laughing, almost doubled over from the force of it. “I couldn’t help myself. It was too funny.”

“You’re an ass,” Renjun grumbled. He felt flushed.

Haechan composed himself and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Thank you, though. Seriously. That was good.” At Renjun’s disbelieving look he quickly amended, “Not the script. You’re right, it’s trash. But it’s the kind of trash that could make me a household name if I play my cards right. So that’s good to know.”

Renjun didn’t know how to respond. “Yeah, well.. whatever.”

He wasn’t looking at Haechan, so he failed to see his next move. He felt it, though: a quick peck to his cheek, gone as soon as it came.

“What the hell was that for?”

“My way of saying thank you,” Haechan explained. “And, well, you looked like you were disappointed before, so…”

If there was one thing Renjun had to give to Haechan, he was a fast runner when he wanted to be. He made it to the safety of his bedroom, locking the door behind him, before Renjun was able to hit him even once.

\--

After 7 weeks, 2 days, and 36 minutes, Renjun received the call he’d been expecting for a while now.

“I’m being reassigned,” he told Haechan as soon as he was off the phone. “You’ll be going back to your usual security detail.”

Haechan sat up from were he’d been lounging on his couch. His eyes were wide and his lips were slightly parted. Surprise was captured perfectly on his handsome face.

“Why?” he asked.

“They connected the threats you got to that guy who tried to kidnap Taeyong last week. I don’t know the exact details, really—your manager will fill you in—but he’s been detained, so… no more threat, no more me.”

It stung more than Renjun was expecting to deliver the news. He might even go so far as to say he was going to miss Haechan.

Apparently Haechan agreed.

“No fair,” he said, looking betrayed. He slumped back against the couch and sighed deeply. “I could still be in danger, you know. I’m sure there are other whackos out there who would love to get a hand on me.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Renjun said sharply.

Haechan did not respond. He was in a full-blown sulk now, eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling and mouth formed into a pout.

Renjun moved closer to where he lay. “We can still hang out sometimes,” he said. “It’s not like I’ll stop existing just because I’m no longer working for you.”

Haechan eyed him cautiously. “You say that now…”

“I mean it.”

After a few seconds of silent contemplation, Haechan seemed to come to a conclusion.

“Will you buy me dinner?” he asked hopefully.

“Why should I—”

Renjun stopped himself and took a deep breath. “Fine,” he said. “I can buy you dinner.”

The concession was worth it to see Haechan beam at him.

Before Renjun left, he stopped and turned back to Haechan, still lying on the couch. “Aren’t you going to thank me?” he said.

“Huh?”

“You know…” Renjun tried to keep his composure, but he could feel his cheeks warming. “The way you thanked me before. I think protecting you ranks higher than reading a few drama lines.”

Surprise kept Haechan in place for a moment, but he jumped up quickly enough.

“Not now,” Renjun said, putting up a hand to stop him. “You can kiss me after our date.”

He shot Haechan a wink and turned to leave, feeling like the suavest person who ever walked the earth.

Of course, Haechan ruined it a few seconds later by running after him. He dragged Renjun back with a protest that _“Kissing shouldn’t wait!”,_ and Renjun found he didn’t care to argue. Haechan’s ideas were not always so bad.


End file.
